“His name is Blake, and don’t start, Daemon.”

“Fine.” His lips tipped up. “He’s not an issue anyway.”

My brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daemon shrugged. “I was kind of surprised when I was in your bedroom while you were sick.”

“I’m not sure I want to know about what.”

“You had a poster of Bob Dylan on the wall. I expected the Jonas Brothers or something.”

“Are you serious? No. Not a fan of pop music. I’m a huge fan of Dave Matthews and older stuff, like Dylan.”

He looked surprised, but then he launched into a discussion about his favorite bands, and we were surprised that we had the same tastes. We argued over which Godfather movie was the best and what reality show was the stupidest. Hours went by, and I learned more about Daemon. And there was that different side of him, the one I’d glimpsed a few times in the past. He was relaxed, friendly, and even playful without making me want to bash him upside the head. We did argue over a few things, a bit heatedly, but he wasn’t a jerk.

It all suddenly felt easy, and that scared the crap out of me.

It was past three a.m. by the time I’d realized how long we’d been talking. I pulled my tired gaze off the clock and looked at him. His eyes had drifted shut and his chest rose and fell evenly.

Daemon looked so…peaceful. Not wanting to wake him, I pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and carefully spread it over him. I grabbed a smaller quilt and tucked it around my legs. I could’ve woke him, but I didn’t have it in me. And yeah, there was a teeny, tiny part of me that didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t know what that meant for me. And I didn’t put too much thought into that. Not right now. Not when I was sure my brain would take an obsessive turn into boy land.

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“Thank you,” he murmured lazily.

My eyes widened. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Almost, but you’re staring at me.”

I flushed. “I am not.”

Daemon pried one eye open. “You always blush when you lie.”

“I do not.” I felt the flush spread down my neck.

“If you keep lying, I think I will have to leave,” he threatened halfheartedly. “I don’t feel like my virtue is safe.”

“Your virtue?” I huffed. “Whatever.”

“I know how you get.” His eyes closed.

Smiling, I snuggled down in my corner of the couch. We never did change the channel.

Sometime later I remembered something he had said earlier. “Did you find it?” I asked sleepily.

His hand slipped over his chest. “Find what, Kitten?”

“What you were searching for?”

Daemon’s eyes opened and held mine. The swelling was back in my chest, spreading through my body. There was a spike of something—excitement?—in my lower stomach as the silence stretched out for what felt like an eternity. “Yeah, sometimes, I think I did.”

Chapter 11

When I woke up on Monday morning, I wasn’t sure exactly how things were going to play out when I saw Daemon in class. He’d cleared out of the house while I was still asleep and I hadn’t seen him when I hung out with Dee on Sunday, which consisted of watching her suck face with Adam. Guess that phone call went well.

Spending time with him Saturday night hadn’t really changed anything between Daemon and me. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. It was just a good moment in a long string of bad ones. And I had bigger and better things to think about. I had a date with Blake after school.

But my thoughts kept straying back to Daemon, and a deep fluttering started in my stomach when I thought about us side by side on the couch.

Warmth tingled over my neck while Carissa was telling me about a romance book she was reading. I kept my eyes glued to her, but I was well aware of the fact that Daemon was there.

He took his seat behind me. A second later, something I’d oddly missed in a messed-up way happened. Daemon poked me in the back with his pen.

Lesa’s brows arched, but she wisely said nothing as I twisted around. “Yes?”

His half grin was all too familiar. “Reindeer socks today?”

“No. Polka dots.”

“Sock mittens?”

“Regular,” I said, fighting a stupid grin.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He tapped his pen on the edge of his desk. “Regular socks just seem so boring after seeing the reindeer socks.”

Lesa cleared her throat. “Reindeer socks?”

“She has these socks that have reindeers on them and are kind of like a mitten for the toes,” he explained.

“Oh, I have a pair like that,” Carissa said, grinning. “But mine have stripes on them. Love them in the winter.”

I passed Daemon a smug look. My socks were cool.

“Am I the only person who is wondering how you saw her socks?” Lesa asked.

Carissa punched her on the arm.

“We live next door to each other,” he reminded her. “I see lots of things.”

I shook my head frantically. “No, he doesn’t. He hardly sees anything.”

“Blushing,” he said, pointing at my cheeks with the blue cap of his pen.

“Shut up.” I glared at him, fighting a grin.

“Anyway, what are you doing tonight?”

Butterflies filled my stomach. I shrugged. “I have plans.”

He frowned. “What kind of…plans?”

“Just plans.” I turned around quickly and focused on the chalkboard.




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